Chasing Paradise

Chapter 15 - Agency

The McArdle Household - Maidenfair (2 weeks ago)

The BFA agent leafed through the sheets on his clipboard as the van pulled up. Normally the jobs they were sent on had one or two sheets of paper for records but this place had ten. Page after page, after page of past and present data, and a dense summary sheet that nearly made him glaze over mentally. Once he'd leafed through he looked at the neighbourhood they were in, and the house they were in front of.

Holding the clipboard in one hand he scratched his head with the other, giving the building another quizzical look before turning to his partner. "Steve, there is no chance in hell this is the place." he said. "The amount of records here suggest a full on breeding facility. This is..."

"Any other house on any other street?" replied his partner, a dark skinned man with tightly shaved hair and beard whose grey nature spoke to him being around 50.

"Well yeah..." answered the first agent, a scrawny man in his early 20s with short neat sandy hair.

"Yeah, I thought the same the first time. I came here too. Tell you what Ethan, we'll say we're here for an inspection, get Jock to give you the tour."

The younger agent sighed and looked at the clipboard again. "This is a joke, it has to be a joke, you're messing with me." he said incredulously.

"Like I said, we'll get you the tour. Jock occasionally gives free samples if he's in a good mood." replied Steve undoing his seatbelt, and making sure the vehicle tracker was broadcasting before opening the door a little and waiting for Ethan's reply.

"Fine, let's get this over with."

The house in question looked like the average single floor family home in the suburbs of Maidenfair. It was well kept, boringly beige with a terracotta tile roof. Ethan looked at it once more. It didn't make a lick of sense, this had to be a sting from the guys back at the Bureau. They were probably watching from a nearby camera and howling with laughter at the thought of it.

The two men exited the van and made their way up the path that split the manicured lawn in half and into the relative shade of the porch. Ethan, clipboard in hand, pressed the buzzer on the front of the house. The door opened a few seconds later. In front of him stood a girl with short black hair wearing a baggy black top, and dark grey skinny jeans. She scowled as soon as she saw the BFA man which put Ethan more than a little on edge, most women saw a BFA badge and looked like they wanted to run for the hills.

"Gemma McArdle?" Ethan asked, reading off the clipboard. As he watched the girl went through a strange set of emotions. First she relaxed, then tensed, then her shoulders slumped just a little.

"No, I'm Pippa, you want me to get my dad?" answered the girl, a hint of dejection in her voice.

Ethan flipped through the sheets, and found the girl's name. "Pippa, PI rating of A...huh, weird. Okay, that's something I need to talk to him about..."

"DAD!" Pippa called, not waiting for an actual answer, not looking away from the two BFA men for even a moment, as if watching them might prevent them doing something.

It took a few seconds but Jock McArdle wandered into the hallway, beer in hand. He was a burly barrel chested man with a receding hairline where white streaked his oily black hair with matching long beard. "Hey Steve, little early for pickup isn't it?" he asked, taking a swig of beer.

Steve grinned, "Sorry Jock, rookie here hasn't seen your place, thought a little bit of an informal inspection might be due?" answered Steve, gesturing at Ethan with his thumb.

Jock took another swig of beer, and gave what might generously pass for a harrumph. "Fine, I've got nothing else to do today. We can do a tour of the sublevels, show your rookie a real sight."

"Sub...levels?" Ethan said incredulously.

"Oh yeah, three of them under the property. You know I started this place with just one slave? Turns out that with a few trades, and a bit of waiting around I've built them into a whole little business empire. Can't even impregnate them all myself any more...but it turns out when you offer the winning local sports teams access to a free brothel..."

"...you're telling me....there is a slave farm under this property..."

Jock took another swig of beer and smiled, "Okay, lad, let's start this inspection, maybe introduce you to some of the perks of being part of the BFA...", he said, before turning to Pippa. "You can go and crate your sister up for the slavefair auction while we're busy."

"Yes, sir." replied Pippa in a voice cold enough to freeze the air.

Ethan flicked through his clipboard again "Actually, before the tour I've been meaning to say, shouldn't this one be coming along as well, she's had her PI..."

"No, she's already got a reserve price on her of 10% more than asking from someone else. They're saying she'll either end up enslaved, or free but with them as CMR....either way I'm making a profit on the deal so who cares? Come one, she'll be done by the time we're finished..." Jock put a hand on Ethan's shoulder and began guiding him to an innocuous looking door in the hallway which the three men disappeared behind.

Pippa shut the front door quietly. She was alone, and not for the first time. She took a breath, and headed for what her dad affectionately called "The Meat Locker", a small room where girls were brought while awaiting pickup. Today it was just Gemma. So many of the girls here weren't family any more, and all in all only 6 other girls shared her mother, the only slave-wife her father had; not that they got any special treatment for all that. They were born underground, bussed to schools when they were old enough, and then put on the open market at the first opportunity.

Pippa opened the door to see Gemma sitting on the steel bench that lined one wall, looking at the packing crate on the floor in front of her.

"If you want to run, Gem, now's the time. He's downstairs and so are the boys in blue." she said, almost hoping Gemma would take her up on it.

Gemma smiled. "We both know they could just use my tracker chip and catch me inside an hour, and that thing's not coming out without a visit to a Fem-Vet." she said, almost wistfully.

"How can you be so calm, so normal?" asked Pippa, she wanted to shout but it was hard to get mad at Gemma.

"Because I'm not you. This is normal. We are born, we learn the ways of service, and then we are chosen to serve. I wish you could see that, maybe even make peace with it.." she said, looking Pippa in the eye. "But I know you never will. You're too much like Nessa. She spent all her time here thinking of ways she could avoid fulfilling the purpose of a woman."

"Yeah, and what happens, the captain of the football team kidnaps her on the way home, marries her in secret, and pays dad a small fortune in damages. Now she's just like any other slave."

"...she's been banded?" asked Gemma, surprised.

"No, but she might as well have been. The last time I saw her was when dad was showing off registry entries. Her husband sent her for pony training."

Gemma smiled despite Pippa's obvious disgust, "I'm sure her husband will be very pleased with her new posture and poise. You know they say the extra muscle tone in the upper thigh and lower abdomen from pony training can really--"

"Please stop, I don't want to know what guide you've been given on pleasing a master."Pippa interrupted, waving both hands in front of her to signal she really did not want to know more. A moment passed. Pippa sighed, walked forward and opened the crate. Rigid foam inside indicated where Gemma would have to lie. "You could have come with me, you know? They might have paid extra for sisters. Dad would have been over the moon if you'd let me apply for you. Just imagine, he'd get maybe 15% over market value and you might have stayed free!" she said.

"And what does freedom win you, Pip? You spend your whole life trying to get it, and now you're locked in some....doomed crusade where even if you do win then in 2 years time it all starts over again, and again, and again." said Gemma as she removed the clothes she was wearing. "All you're doing is moving that day back and back and back until the only places that might buy you are the places you really fear or worse...no one wants you at all."

"I'm not afraid. ...I just want to have a little control of my own life rather than be a brainless fuckpuppet for whichever cock-bearing subhuman happens to be horny and have cash on the day!" Pippa snapped back, her face almost a snarl as her voice prodded Gemma accusationally.

Gemma slapped her, hard. "There are BFA men in the building, you can't talk about men like that! That's exactly the sort of thing that gets you a night in the cells there, and community service afterwards."

"And when I've got my freedom pass they can't touch me!" answered Pippa, her voice raised in genuine frustration as her cheek throbbed.

Gemma rolled her eyes "No, you've got it wrong, that's when you're most at their mercy. Free women always feel like they have the most to lose, wrapped up in their fight to avoid slavery. Everyone knows a bareneck's freedom is the one thing they cannot cope with having threatened. As a slave you are beyond that, you have nothing left to take, and where the BFA is concerned you're just as much property and sex toy either way.." said Gemma, neatly folding her clothes, and moving towards the crate.

Pippa removed the orifice kit from the crate. She and Gemma were silent as Pippa helped her fit the butt plug, and shock vibe into place, locking them in with leather straps. Pippa's heart raced as Gemma contorted and squashed herself to fit inside the crate, the position would have been foetal had it not required her hands to be locked behind the back, something she did almost haltingly as Gemma was in no position to do it herself..

Pippa handled the small air supply, and ball gag breather it was attached to, kneeling down next to Gemma. Her face changed as she knelt there looking at Gemma's placid blue eyes. "Please don't go, everyone else left, everyone leaves, it's not too late, we can find a way, there has to be something we can do." she pleaded, a hint of tears forming at a crack in her voice.

Gemma smiled. "It's okay Pip. For what it's worth I hope you find your own place in this, one you can live with. I really do, even if that means doing something I'll never understand. Just...try to find a little acceptance for me too? Please?"

Pippa's face ran with tears. She'd been through this so many times, seen so many sisters sent away. "I'll miss you, sis."

"And I'll miss you." Gemma replied, a hint of a tear in her eye. Pippa fitted the ballgag, and opened the valve on the air supply. With the sedative inside it was good for anything up to a couple of days. As she closed the crate a small panel on top lit up with a yellow light, Pippa pushed down, the lid clicked into place, and the light went green. She checked the status display on the panel. Normal heart rate, normal oxygen levels, anal stimulation medium, vaginal stimulation rigorous. It was a minute's work to load the crate onto a trolley, and deposit the whole thing by the door.

The tears dried, and once the crate was there she began to process what was really happening. Another person was leaving her. Another person who didn't care. Another person who didn't love her enough to stay in her life. She wanted to set fire to the crate. To let her sister feel how she felt inside. She'd never see Gemma again, Gemma was dead to her, less than nothing.

She heard footsteps on the stairs, and the door opened.

"...if you like the little blonde slut that much I can cut you a deal for one of our fine boys in blue, Ethan. Market rate she's on for seven and a half thousand bucks, but I can go as low as three for you as a personal favour, I'll even throw in piercings if you like, I know someone who can do them at great rates."

"What's the catch?" asked Ethan, exiting the door and trying to smooth down his uniform.

"I wouldn't say there's a catch but from time to time some air freight might come in that could do with....minimal investigation. Nothing strictly illegal, just some Saharan breeding stock that needs to occasionally be moved before paperwork is ready." said Jock, a devious smile playing across his face as he exited the basement with a pigtailed blonde in tow. Pippa recognised her, she was one of the breeding slaves awaiting a new round of insemination. The slave was leaking cum from all her fuckholes, and Pippa resigned herself to being on cleanup duty within the next few minutes.

Ethan grinned, and grabbed the girl. "I think we have a deal, Mr McArdle. Messycunt here will look very nice chained up at the foot of the bed...no need for piercings.

"Well then," Jock continued, "I see your pickup has been arranged, wire me the money sometime today and I'll move her registration over for you."

Just like that, Pippa thought, another life wasted, relegated to being a useless fucktoy. She determined this would not and could not be her path as the BFA men left wheeling her sister away on the trolley first to the big auction at the slave fair, and then to who knows where.

Bureau of Female Affairs Registration Office - Cunton (4 Weeks Ago)

"How may this cunt be of service?" asked the smiling blonde at the desk. Amelia looked at the piece of paper in her shaking hand, and read it again. She knew what it said. She'd read the name, the time, the office number a thousand times on her way over. She knew she would have to go through this, it was that or face community service. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, though.

The smiling blonde was still looking at her. She could feel the line behind her was growing restless watching her stand there doing nothing. Amelia took a breath. The words still wouldn't come. She looked the Slave-Agent in the eye, and like some sort of confused puppy the slave tilted her head first one way then the other while looking her in the eyes. Amelia offered her the piece of paper, the agent slave took it, still smiling.

She watched as the slave read the few words that were there. For a second there was a flicker in the smile. "This cunt understands. Please proceed to the waiting circles next to the door. You will be collected by a Slave-Agent when the regional director decides to see you."

Amelia took the paper back and clutched it as if it was the only thing keeping her afloat at sea. The last time she'd been here her world had broken. Inside she already knew she might be only weeks away from slavery, but having her home raided by the BFA, and then spending twenty four hours at their mercy had opened her eyes to what that meant. Her mind flashed back to the terror as they broke in the door and restrained her and her mother in the kitchen while the house was searched. She relived the shame as the SEFR men decided to transport them both to detention, and had torn their clothes off for an invasive and humiliating cavity search. Then came the despair as they'd forced her to her knees, cuffed her hands behind her back, and shoved her head first into a crate that permitted no movement leaving her head sticking out through a hole, then finally the panic as they went to seal the crate behind her, and she saw the two protrusions in the rear cover that would fill her primary and secondary fuckholes for the duration of the trip to the BFA.

As she and her mother were processed her father watched them both disapprovingly. Her mother had tried to get her to calm down as much as she could but her effectiveness was minimal given both women had already had ball gags secured in their mouths. Hyperventilation had set in for Amelia when her crate was placed on a cart and wheeled out to the van, and wasn't helped when she saw she was to be placed in a rack that lined both sides of the van, almost every slot full with another identical crate containing a bound and naked woman.

That had been three days ago. She still felt like she could barely walk. Her mother had taught her how to tend to the bruising when they'd returned home, as well as some stretches she could do to take away some of the soreness. It helped. She looked down at the grey polished concrete floor of the brutalist monstrosity to avoid looking anywhere else, seeing the stylised reliefs of the glowering eyes of the founders of the androcracy glaring down at her was more than she could handle at the moment. She found the yellow waiting circles and occupied one. Her heart was racing. She'd had to run all the way here from the bus, she was desperate not to be late for her appointment, even if it wasn't one she particularly wanted to keep. All she had to do, they said, was talk to the director about what she was reading, and what activities she was taking part in. Just standard checks, nothing huge.

She waited. Ten minutes. Twenty Minutes. Women from multiple other circles were collected by slave agents and taken away. She wondered if they'd forgotten her. How long might she have to wait before they just told her to go home. At the hour mark she was glad she'd worn something comfortable, although the thought of standing too much longer wasn't something she relished.

"Amelia Jackson?"

She'd been half daydreaming at that point, thinking of what she'd do when she got home, getting some rest, not being here. She snapped out of it and looked at the person questioning her. She was face to face with a Slave Agent, although not the standard issue leggy blonde or brunette bombshell she always imagined, this one was a much more athletic looking Asian girl dressed in a more casual slavecop outfit of tight shorts and top with "A-S Slickslit" printed across the chest.

"Yes, that's me." she replied.

"This cunt is to take you to Regional Director Storhjelm." said the slavecop in a matter of fact fashion, directing Amelia towards a door she'd seen a dozen other women shepherded through. Cautiously leaving the circle as though she was likely to be punished for it regardless of the instruction she headed over to the blank metal door closely followed by Slickslit. The door opened on her approach and revealed a small brightly lit ante-room beyond.

Stepping in the door shut behind them both leaving Slickslit and Amelia alone in the small room. Slickslit pressed a button on the wall, and a hatch in the wall opened revealing a box labelled '3293' containing a small opaque plastic bag.

"Remove your clothes, and place them in the box." said Slickslit in a flat monotone voice, removing the bag and placing it to one side.

"I'm just here to meet with the director, not anything else." replied Amelia, her heart rate rising once more.

Slickslit remained impassive, "Remove your clothes, failure to comply will result in this cunt removing them by force. You will be meeting the director once all instructions are completed" she stated in a tone that brooked no dissent.

Slowly Amelia began to remove her clothes, each piece bringing back painful memories of her time in the interrogation cells. Eventually she stood on the cold floor, hands protecting herself, as the slavecop inspected the items she'd placed in the box. Seemingly satisfied she turned back to Amelia. "Spread your legs for inspection." she ordered.

"What? I....but....Inspection for what?" Amelia said, fumbling over the words, unable to really process them.

The Slavecop rolled her eyes pushed Amelia against the wall with one hand using her free hand to investigate first her pussy then her ass with two probing fingers before Amelia could even formulate a coherent idea to resist.

Clearly now realising Amelia was unable to respond to her requests quickly enough Slickslit continued on her own, opening the small bag to reveal it contained three things. The first item was a rather flimsy grey tabard with a tie at each side and SEFR written in large white letters across the chest, this was quickly pulled over her head with the ties being made into small bows that rested at her hips. Amelia didn't get much of a chance to look at the second as Slickslit whirled her around and cuffed her wrists behind her, pulling the wrists up with the aid of an attached leather collar that locked securely around her neck.